


Of Bards, Lingerie, and Snapchat mishaps

by notebooksandlaptops



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Bisexual Disaster Jaskier | Dandelion, Dirty Talk, F/M, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia is Still a Witcher, Getting Together, Lingerie, M/M, Multi, Mutual Masturbation, Poly Family, Polyamory Negotiations, Sexting, Sexy Times, Snapchat, a suprised and stunned Geralt, accidental nudes, but he does wear, but only in the fact that Yennefer is far more vocal in the dirty talk, but they're recieved really really really well, i guess minor dom sub undertones, jaskier doesn't wear a dress, so fucking much, they love one another gang, who loves Jaskier and Yennefer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:48:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25963138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notebooksandlaptops/pseuds/notebooksandlaptops
Summary: He sighed, tossing over in bed, and picking up his phone. No message from Geralt, though he had a Snapchat from Yennefer asking if he wanted to take Ciri to the park after she got back from her sleepover tomorrow.Geralt was also the worst at keeping in touch, which made Jaskier hate it even more when Geralt went on hunts without him.He thought about loading up some Netflix show, but decided better of it. He was pining, and lonely and horny and his boyfriend was gone and—He blinked. Well, there was an idea. Why hadn’t he thought of that before?Because there was only one thing to do when you were pining and lonely and horny and your boyfriend was gone, and you happened to have a perfectly working camera phone and a distinct lack of any type of modesty.-///-Or, Jaskier is bored, lonely, horny and has a camera phone perfectly capable of sending nudes to his currently-away boyfriend. It would be pretty embarrassing if those nudes were accidentally sent to the wrong people, huh? But surely Jaskier isn't that much of a diaster...right?
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Jaskier | Dandelion/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 47
Kudos: 528





	Of Bards, Lingerie, and Snapchat mishaps

Jaskier _hated_ when Geralt went on hunts without him.

There were plenty of reasons for this; ones he listed in a moaning, whining voice every time their schedules conflicted enough to force Geralt out on the road alone. He would _miss_ him, he’d be deprived of good new material for his songs, he would be forced to cook for himself, he’d be _worried_ Geralt was out there bleeding to death in some swamp or forest.

He’d miss the _sex._

Admittedly, that last one was new but new in the _best_ of ways. When he’d first become friends with Geralt, the man was far too caught up in his on-again-off-again relationship with Yennefer to notice that Jaskier was pining and pining _hard._

Jaskier was pretty sure his chance of ever being with Geralt was blown the moment that Yennefer and Geralt stopped their on-again-off-again and actually settled into something proper. He’d been the best man at their wedding. He’d been named Godfather when they adopted their kid.

He’d written a _lot_ of angsty songs about it.

But then…well, then one unexceptional day in mid-June Geralt showed up one day on his doorstep at three AM, looking more awkward than Jaskier had ever seen him. Jaskier had invited him in, wondering if Yennefer had kicked him out after one of their infamous rows.

 _No._ She hadn’t, it became apparent. She’d just encouraged him to come over and _confess his feelings._

Which had led to making out, and then sex, and then a _lot_ of sappy love songs on Jaskier’s behalf, and a good amount of polyamory negotiations between the three of them.

Yennefer might be a cold-hearted bitch sometimes, but she wasn’t a bad person to have as a metamour either.

So, yes, now there was sex, or there was _usually_ sex. Currently, the sex was off the table because Geralt had gone on a hunt without him, because Jaskier had a concert booked and couldn’t exactly skip out on all the people who had paid to come to see him perform.

He sighed, tossing over in bed, and picking up his phone. No message from Geralt, though he had a Snapchat from Yennefer asking if he wanted to take Ciri to the park after she got back from her sleepover tomorrow.

Geralt was also the _worst_ at keeping in touch, which made Jaskier hate it even _more_ when Geralt went on hunts without him.

He thought about loading up some Netflix show, but decided better of it. He was _pining,_ and _lonely_ and _horny_ and his boyfriend was _gone_ and—

He blinked. Well, there was an idea. Why hadn’t he thought of that before?

Because there was only one thing to do when you were _pining_ and _lonely_ and _horny_ and your boyfriend was _gone,_ and you happened to have a perfectly working camera phone and a distinct lack of any type of modesty.

It was hardly the most risqué thing he’d ever done but Jaskier found himself sitting up in bed anyway and reaching over for the light. Screw his early night, he decided, resolutely. Early nights were for people way less hot than him, and people who didn’t have access to a quite frankly stunning set of lingerie.

He slipped from the bed. The first thing he needed was definitely some good wine. Luckily, Yennefer had left a bottle over here last time she came round, and though she’d probably stab him for daring to uncork it without her, he figured it was worth the risk. Yennefer’s wine was _infinitely_ better than the shitty less-than-a-tenner wine he kept in the back of the cupboard.

The second thing he needed was lingerie.

Which he had. Obviously. No need to steal _that_ from Yennefer.

He felt a thrill run down his spine as he picked up the blue undergarments, lace creating tantalising windows to the skin below in all the right places. He almost reached for his camera there and then, but he held off. Instead, he let his fingers wrap around the wine glass and taking a long, careful gulp.

If he was going to do this, he might as well do it _right._

He could feel the arousal pooling in his stomach as he accented his eyes with mascara, the light blush placed on his cheeks by a feather-light brush feeling like the gentlest of kisses. Oh, this was an _excellent_ idea. Not quite as good as sex, of course, but it certainly scratched that itch Jaskier had been feeling for the past few days.

Finally, he surveyed his work in the mirror, a smirk curling it’s way onto his lips. He looked like a pin-up girl, if he did say so himself. Though his eyes would never be _quite_ as stunning as the Rivia-Vandenberg’s family managed to be, the makeup did its job in making them pop and deepening that smoky, half-lidded sexy look. The lingerie was enticing but didn’t really leave much to the imagination when it came to his already-half hard length.

And of course, he was also a selfie master. You didn’t get to be as vain and beautiful as him without knowing how to take a few could pics for Instagram.

All in all, this evening was going swell. Way better than if he’d actually decided to watch some Netflix.

He let one hand creep over his body, pulling up Snapchat and letting the camera click its way into action. No filters needed – he wanted Geralt to see every _inch_ of what he was missing out there, wanted Geralt to see the curls of his chest hair and _pine_ for them, pine for Jaskier’s cock. He wanted Geralt to come home worked up and ravenous for him.

He took the first photo as his spare hand reached the skin _just_ above the lace of his panties.

A shiver ran through his body as he clicked the ‘send’ button, lifting the wine glass to his lips for more liquid courage.

Ten photos and one rather risqué video later and Jaskier was rock hard, satisfied and ready for a quick jerk off in the shower. No doubt Geralt wouldn’t open the things for a while – it was a miracle getting him to answer in less than twenty-four hours most days, let alone within minutes. But no matter. He’d mostly done this for the cheeky thrill of exposing himself.

Setting the shower up, he’d just pulled off the lace when his phone buzzed. For a moment he lit up, imagining Geralt on the other end.

When he picked it up though…it was just Yennefer.

He sighed but opened it up anyway. Might as well check whatever it was before he jumped in the shower, even if his throbbing dick was begging him to do otherwise.

Well, it _had_ been begging him to do otherwise, until the photo loaded.

It…wasn’t what he expected at all.

Parted lips painted rouge, the bare swell of her small breasts angled _just so_ at the camera, purple eyes staring right at the lens as if in a dare.

_Pretty sure you sent those to the wrong person, Julian xx - Y_

Jaskier liked to consider himself a man with reasonable reactions to situations (even if Geralt would argue otherwise).

In this scenario, he thought it was perfectly reasonable that he would yelp and drop his phone.

Fucking _hell._

He could feel himself going bright red. Yennefer he’d—he’d sent—but—oh _shit_ he must have just clicked the top person in his contact list. He covered his face with one hand and found that didn’t solve the problem at all. If anything, it only exasperated it. When he closed his eyes all he saw behind his eyelids was her perfect skin, her perfect eyes, her perfect bare chest…

Oh _no._ No, no, no, no, no—

From the floor, his phone buzzed again.

He should ignore it. He should get in the shower, jerk off, and then _beg_ Yennefer not to say anything about this to anyone ever again.

What he should _not_ do was pick up the phone and click on the next message. And _yet._

_All dressed up and nowhere to go? Do I not get to see the rest of the show? -Y_

She was equally bare this time, but the camera was angled lower, angled at her _hand_ which had strayed into the delightful confines of her equally lacy underwear.

Oh _fuck._

They shouldn’t do this. They’d _just_ managed to sort themselves out in this whole poly triad. Adding a sexual relationship between him and Yennefer…was that really going to help keep the peace?

Still, the message taunted him, her eyes focused on him, daring him to call chicken, to back out.

He took a deep breath.

Well. One thing he wasn’t was a coward. _Especially_ when it came to his body.

Besides…he sort of wanted more photos from her.

He pressed his fingers to the base of his dick, making sure the camera caught both his face and his throbbing cock in its lens before taking another and sending it over. He was too nervous to add a caption, so he didn’t. Couldn’t. What did you say to your boyfriend's wife who you were now…exchanging nudes with? Getting off with?

There was a few moments where he was too nervous to breathe, let alone stroke himself any further and then..

A purple dot showed up next to Yennefer’s name.

Video.

_Shit._

Her lip caught between her teeth, a slight moan escaping her lips, her free hand rubbing in a way he _knew_ must feel exquisite.

She’d captioned it _is that all you’ve got?_

Well then.

If she was _that_ serious about it.

He thought about her then, as he began to stroke himself. He’d never really thought about her in that way before. Well, not true. He’d _known_ she was sexy, and maybe at the beginning of his friendship with Geralt, he’d had a few…threesome fantasies. But his was different. This wasn’t about Geralt at all. This was just him, thinking about the video she’d sent, thinking about what it would be like if he was _there_ if he could replace her fingers with his own.

“Fuck,” he breathed, just as he clicked play, “Fuck, _Yennefer._ ”

How had he never thought about this before?

He waited with bated breath, stroking himself lazily in the meantime. He’d expected another picture if he was lucky perhaps another video.

He had _not_ expected the sudden, rather loud ringtone to begin from his phone.

He barely hesitated before picking it up though.

He was glad he hadn’t.

“ _Julian_ ,” came her voice, soft, almost like a prayer. “Say my name again.”

Well, if that was what she wanted, who was he to deny.

He could hear her little gasps, her quiet moans, knew his own breath was coming out in pants as he sped up the pace of his fingers, rubbing his thumb just so over his slit, “ _Yennefer,_ ” he breathed.

“Again.”

“ _Yennefer,”_ he could hear her, he could almost _see_ her. He wanted to be there, he wanted to touch her—

“Again,” she commanded, voice firm, “Julian. Do as your told.”

This time, her name came out as a wine, “ _Yennefer._ ”

“Good boy,” Yennefer breathed, “are you stroking your prick for me, Jaskier?”

Jaskier was _dying._ “Y-yeah.”

“Imagining what it would be like if I was there? If my pretty lips were wrapped around it instead?”

Fuck, _fuck_ he was close. “Uh-huh.”

“Of course, I wouldn’t—ah yes, fuck—wouldn’t let you have it straight away. You’d let me sit on your face first, wouldn’t you? You’d be such a gentleman, letting me ride your tongue until you were a slobbering, shaking mess—”

She was _dirty._

He loved it.

“ _Yennefer,_ shit, _Yennefer, I’m gonna—”_

He didn’t know what they were doing. He didn’t know what this was going to mean for them long term. He didn’t know how he’d been stupid enough not to check who he was sending to before he sent those pictures.

But here they were. With her voice down the phone and her moans and he was _close_ and—

“Are you—”

“Yeah—” she breathed, “Julian, _fuck._ ”

“Yennefer—”

There was, after that, quite a bit of moaning, on both their parts.

Jaskier didn’t think he’d ever forget this moment, the two of them, pushing themselves, getting off on how the other sounded moaning their name.

It was heaven.

It was confusing as fuck.

It was _hot._

And then…it was over.

Finally, silently, over.

Well, _shit._

-///-

“Um,” Jaskier began, reaching for a towel to wipe himself off with his free hand and wondering if she felt just as awkward as he did.

“That was unexpected,” she finished for him and _yes,_ if he squinted, perhaps he could detect just a hint of embarrassment in her tone. Only if he squinted though. Yennefer was as raw as an exposed nerve in comparison to Geralt, but she had her own masks all the same.

“Good though,” Jaskier offered, cringing internally at his wording. _Good?_ Was that really how he was going to describe it? He was a goddamn sex _machine_ in bed, and a poet to boot. His vocabulary should be able to stretch further than simply _good._

“Hmm,” Yennefer hummed, in a scarily accurate imitation of her husband.

“What do we do now?” Jaskier asked, almost timid.

He heard her laugh at the other end of the phone, “Aren’t you supposed to be the one who’s good at this sort of thing?”

“Oh please, as if you’re not one of the sluttiest people I know. There’s no way Geralt would know _half_ the things he knew about sex if someone hadn’t told him.”

Yennefer’s breathing had finally levelled out into something close to her normal tempo, “yeah. He’s vanilla as they come, ain’t he?”

“It's wonderful, I mean, his cock is divine but—”

“Bit frustrating he won’t indulge in the kinky shit?” Yennefer finished for him.

“Yen, you get me.”

It should be awkward. In plenty of ways, it _was_ awkward. Except that, well—it wasn’t _too_ awkward, was it? It was just like a usual conversation they would have over wine, only with added talk about Geralt’s dick.

They took Ciri to the park together. They drank wine together. She was his friend. And now…

“So…”

“Come over tomorrow, early, before Ciri comes back from her sleepover. We can…talk a few things over,” Yennefer offered.

Talk. That would probably be a good idea.

Didn’t mean he wasn’t shit scared though.

“Don’t worry, we’ve got it covered. We’re hot people, we’ve got a hot guy we share. I’m sure there’s an…arrangement, that would suit all of us.”

There probably was.

-///-

It was a little under a week later when Jaskier was woken by a confused call of his name.

He snuggled closer to the warm body beside him. In the past week he’d learnt that Yennefer tended to run hot, her skin a welcome embrace from the cold whenever he tiptoed into her bed.

Of course, they’d kept it…mostly PG. They needed to talk to Geralt before any actual sex was had, they figured, but making out…well. They’d masturbated while speaking to each other down the phone, making out probably wasn’t crossing any line they hadn’t already left way behind.

It was even a little bit fun. They were…sneaking around like teenagers, for want of a better analogy. The last thing they needed was for Ciri to realise something was up before they spoke about it with Geralt. She was a bright kid, too, too bright for her own good sometimes and she’d only end up asking questions that neither he nor Yennefer had the answers too yet.

So they were…sneaking. In the past week he’d been round only when Ciri was out with her friends. Tonight Ciri was staying with her other godparent Triss. He’d crawled into bed next to Yennefer and fallen asleep with his head cocooned on his chest.

And now he was being _rudely_ awoken. So rude. He’d had a goddamn show last night, he was _exhausted._

“Go away,” he grumbled, “sleeping.”

There was a hand on his shoulder, tugging him slightly away from Yennefer. He whined, still half asleep.

“Yeah, Geralt, get yourself your own boyfriend.” Yennefer quipped, her voice soft with sleep, her words spoken around half a yawn.

“I was about to tell you the same thing,” Geralt grunted.

_Oh._

Geralt.

Jaskier forced his eyes open, letting them take in his Witcher. Not injured, it seemed. Good. That was the important thing. Anything else…well, anything else could wait for the morning. He was _tired._

“Did you sleep with my wife, Jaskier?” Geralt asked, but there was no accusation in his tone. There was amusement, and, perhaps, something close to wonder. Those golden eyes had their pupils blown wide.

Interesting. Jaskier filed that away for later as he tugged on the bottom of Geralt’s shirt, “nope. Only sent her nudes. Come to bed, we can talk about it in the morning. M’gonna be the best fucking third wheel in your marriage now Geralt, just you wait.”

Geralt laughed, and after a moment Jaskier felt the bed dip beside him, a kiss pressed to his forehead, “You’re not a third wheel, Jaskier.”

“Hmm,” Yennefer agreed, “not at all.”

An arm settled around his waist, his head still pillowed on Yennefer’s chest.

In the morning they _would_ talk. They’d talk over coffee about what they wanted to be to one another. In sixth months they’d finally reveal everything to Ciri. In a year, Jaskier would get a ring to wear that matched Geralt’s and Yennefer’s. In two, he’d legally adopt Ciri and become not just her Godfather, but her second Dad too.

For a situation that could have been nothing but an embarrassment, and accidental nude and some lingerie had certainly gone a long way to get Jaskier the life he’d never dreamed he’d get.

But tonight, well, tonight he snuggled closer to both of them, safe in a cacoon of their warmth.

**Author's Note:**

> It's ya girl, back with another modern AU geraskifer fic!
> 
> This is my first vaguely explicit fic ever and like... I'm real nervous about it. But I'm gonna post it anyway because otherwise I'm never gonna post any porn ever. Also could NOT get this idea out of my head because you KNOW that they'd both totally turn an accidental nudes mishap into genuine sexy times they're both just that horny (and we stan that for them). This is also a short drabble and writing warm up I'm doing to get a grasp on the characters after a bit of a break, so sorry if it's not quite as up to scratch as my usual stuff.
> 
> Come hang out with me on Tumblr for drabbles, writing and general witchering [@Jaskier-wearing-dresses](https://jaskier-wearing-dresses.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Toss a comment/kudos to your tired fanfic writer?


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